Playing My Game
by Sky Zone
Summary: [TezukaXOc]After Tezuka graduates from college, he becomes a professional tennis player. He attends the U.S. Open, meeting his old friends and someone else that just might help him to victory.


Playing my Game

"Asobi no **Uiningushotto"**

Chapter One: Enter: Tezuka, the ultimate prodigy.

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Sora Kumori wasn't one to back down to a challenge. No. In fact, she would look for a challenge and enjoy it. And the U.S. Open was the perfect challenge. Because there, on the concrete green flooring of the Open's court, she felt the exhilaration that could only come from the sweet experience of beating an opponent flat. No, she wasn't violent, but the sound of victory was music to her ears.

She smirked, sliding a sky blue cap further down to shade out the blazing sun. She was here from Japan, one of the newer age mid-twenty pro tennis players that had been elected by Japan to represent them in the U.S. Open. She wasn't going to settle for anything less than what her country expected. She was currently seated in the player's lounge, scrutinizing the matches of the day, and glad to be away from rabid fans. She pursed her lips as she saw her name printed beside the name of another. Kevin Smith. Probably some tennis pro wannabe that the States elected as a desperate last minute

Choice. She folded the program and slipped it into her blue tennis bag. She rose and headed out; she needed a Ponta to clear her head.

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Tezuka nearly groaned, but his well-practiced cool composure wouldn't let him sink to that level. Why did he become a pro tennis player? Why couldn't he have avoided all these crowded premises and over-enthusiastic fans by becoming a doctor like his parents wanted? But the answer rose readily in his mind. He simply loved tennis and was good at it. Pushing through the roadblock of a crowd, Tezuka was beginning to get a headache. Water. His parched throat rasped. Shoving aside a media person rather harshly, Tezuka tripped over all the feet and approached the nearest Soda Machine.

To his disappointment, there was a long line to the Soda Machine, and he couldn't afford to wait too long in line for fear of more fans. Resisting another urge to groan, Tezuka filed in the queue as well, noticing too late that he was about to crash into another person who was desperately trying to get an earlier spot in the line.

"Oof..." Tezuka heard a female voice mutter out. Great. Another person of the opposite gender. Experience told him to stay away from those. Tezuka quickly pushed the glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Although he detested making an apology, he felt somewhat sorry for the other person's misfortune. The 'other person' was rubbing the top of her head ruefully, grimacing all the while.

"Owww... Sorry 'bout that. I wasn't really watching where I was going," she said, stealing the apology from right under Tezuka's lips. "See, I'm kinda new to this place. Not really used to these... crowds. I'm Sora Kumori-" With a sudden gasp, she slapped her hand over her mouth, fugitively looking around.

Tezuka heard it clearly. Sora Kumori. Wasn't she another player Japan had chosen to represent them?

Giving a wry smile at her, he spoke "You know... It's not wise to tell your name to the world in a place like this... especially if you know fans are going to pounce you the minute they hear your name uttered."

"Yeah, I know... It was a sudden slip of the tongue," she said with another grimace. "What about you? Judging from your... ah... expertise on the subject, are you a player from uh... China or something?"

"No. I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu, a player from Japan." No sooner than he finished saying the sentence, a media reporter who had been snooping nearby perked up.

"Oh my God. It's Tezuka! Please, sir, could you be so kind as to answer a FEW questions? I promise, it won't take much of your time at all!" By the time HE had finished the sentence, more reporters had teleported there, all clamoring for an interview. In the mass chaos, Tezuka and Sora managed to find the time to disappear into the oncoming crowd. And most unfortunately, leaving behind the possibility of a cold ponta.

"Che." Sora said with an amused snort. "What did you say about not mentioning names in public?"

"Oh, my fault now? I seem to recall that it was you who dared mention the subject." Tezuka argued. Usually, Tezuka would never lower himself to debate with a girl, but in this case, too much of his pride was at risk. She huffed, and turned her back.

"As I said before, I'm new to all this fan business. Who knew tennis could bring a person so much fame?"

Thinking back to the times in high school and middle school, where fans had made their adoration clearly heard, Tezuka had to think that she had an absolutely valid question. How could tennis make a person so… coveted? If only he had paid a little more attention in middle and high school, he would have been slightly more prepared to face the inevitable.

Tezuka allowed himself a rare sigh. Over the years, time had changed him. He no longer tried to keep himself behind a mask. He grew rather tired of it, and it became refreshing to express emotions again. Then again, one must never let one's guard down!

They entered the player's lounge again and took a seat at one of the concession tables to finally get their long awaited drinks. "Since you're so new to this," he said with great un-needed emphasis on the word 'new'. I suppose that I should tell you a couple things about tennis publicity."

Sora nodded, delicately sipping from a bottle of cold water. It struck Tezuka at how poised she was, how nimbly she made every movement. It struck him as rather cute. Tezuka was unfamiliar with the feeling. It gave him the creeps. But he shook it off. "Anyway, the first thing is to avoid fans and media members. Especially media members. Their very life depends on how effectively they can lure a player into answering a book of questions. So they'll be particularly difficult to shake off. Fans aren't as motivated. Secondly, get ready to receive endorsement people. They lurk at the tennis courts and try to see a rising star. Then they tackle their victim, and offer silly agreements to sponsor a couple of shoes-or something along those lines."

They talked, for hours, of ways of avoiding all manners of people who would like to take advantage of a player. After Tezuka thought he had passed on enough advice to last a lifetime, they agreed to leave and meet tomorrow at the same place. They walked outside to catch the last glimpse of the sun.

"So, Tezuka-kun, do you have a match tomorrow? Oh, and have you heard of some American guy called Kevin Smith?" Sora asked, idly fingering a strand of hair.

Tezuka couldn't help but notice how the rays of the setting sun played with her ebony hair until it shone with a lustrous gleam. "Yeah. I have a match at 3:00. And about Kevin Smith… yeah, I've heard about him from a friend of mine in Japan. He's quite the challenge, I heard. Good luck defeating him."

She smiled. "Eh, come watch the match. I don't think just any American guy can beat me, excuse me for the lack of modesty, but my teacher was one of a kind. No ordinary person can dream of beating me."

He smirked. "Well, I'm not any ordinary player either. Say a practice match right now?"

She paused a second, taking a glance at the darkening sky, before readily agreeing. "Sure, It'll prepare me for my match tomorrow."

Reaching a court, both players took their rackets from the bag they always carried on their back. You never know when a situation calls for a tennis racket. Sora was slightly nervous. No one had ever accepted a challenge from her so confidently. She remembered his face when he said, 'I'm not any ordinary player either.' It was so strikingly calm. She liked that about him, though. She grasped her black racket easily, and stood up.

"Ready, Tezuka Kunimitsu?" Sora asked, twirling the racket expertly in her fingers. Eagerness to begin the challenge filled her.

"Yeah," he said, gripping the racket with his left hand. They walked on to the practice court. "Smooth or Rough?" he asked.

"Smooth." Sora said, eyeing his racket, as if a detailed analysis could tell her exactly which would have the higher probability.

Smiling at her serious scrutinize, he spun his racket. It spun in perfect equilibrium for a while before falling down with a clatter. Smooth. It was smooth. Smiling widely, Sora handed his racket back. "Looks like I serve."

Sora took her place and tossed a tennis ball up and down. She felt confident. She was well known for never loosing a service game. She tossed, and served.

It looked like a simple serve, but Tezuka knew there was some trick behind it. It whizzed to his side, bounced, and went sliced so sharply to the left that Tezuka knew there was almost no chasing after it. But he wasn't one to give up. He raced after it, and managed to return it into a weak lob. Sora was surprised. No one had ever returned her serve on their first try. He was right, he is no ordinary player. Taking her chance, she speedily approached the ball and smashed it back down. As soon as Tezuka missed her smash, he knew that this was going to be a looong game.

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Sora sighed, and mentally scolded herself for underestimating him. He had won, 6-4. It had taken ages to finish, and her stamina had been pushed to her limits. He was an absolutely amazing player: full of grace, cunning, power, and a calm demeanor that would spook anyone.

Tezuka allowed another rare smile to flit across his face. She was good, he admitted, but she had yet to get used to National level people. Quite obviously, she was used to playing people with less talent. But she was a witty player, stealing points from him before he knew they were lost. Hitting balls that had absolutely no pattern to them. Half her backhands were carefully hidden slices that Tezuka only managed to return by maintaining a totally focused mind. Every ball that she made had a purpose, and if Tezuka didn't end the point soon with the un-returnable zero-shiki drop shot, he would have been pushed beyond the baseline and totally susceptible to a discreet cross-court shot. All in all, she was one of the smartest players he had met. Maybe even a challenge to Inui, an old friend back in Middle School.

Sora sighed, walked over and gave him a hearty handshake. "You're an awesome player," she said with a small smile on her face. Tezuka flushed at the compliment, the slightest tinge of red appearing on his cheeks. Thankfully, she didn't notice. "If Kevin Smith is anything like you… I'm toast in the match tomorrow."

"I think you'll do fine," he said warmly, "Kevin Smith has a violent temper. If you score a single point against him, he'll probably get so mad, half his balls will end up out."

She smiled a stunning smile. "Thanks, Tezuka-kun."


End file.
